


Tribulation

by Arithanas



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: Gen, pre-book fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: Aramis has to decide between his pride and his career. Pre-book fiction.<br/>DISCLAIMER: Dumas & Maquet works are public domain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tribulation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [898700 (ghostwriter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriter/gifts).



> My gratitude to [Snowynight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sinngrace/pseuds/snowynight) for the beta.

René d'Herblay   had been dissatisfied with an ecclesiastical career when young, but over the years he had learned to accept it and embrace it with genuine fervor. The church gave him opportunities to learn more; his life had more restrictions —all had a time and a way, determined beforehand—, but it was also more structured and disciplined. The monotony of seminary life left no room for surprises, and therefore, Rene was grateful for it. The great difficulty —because there was always one— was that he had already tasted the world outside the secure walls of the cloister, and, like Eve, it was difficult for him to refuse to enjoy the forbidden fruit.

The call to Lauds walked past the closed door of his cell. This time, René did not feel compelled to heed it. The previous night he had left a note to his mentor, informing him that he was going through a moment of doubt. Skipping divine services was his privilege as a seminarian and yet, that would call the attention of the patient priest who looked at him as one of the great theological promises of France and, modesty aside, René felt up to the challenge.

That early morning he was restless, a feeling that had not visited him in years. The blood in his veins still raging and he swore he could feel its warmth on his cheeks. The insult made his person to be still pained dully. The insult had taken him by surprise, and from the time they were separated, René have thought of a good number of answers that he could no longer give with the absence of his partner. Blows of cane to him! That man must be blind or crazy not to realize that the cassock was not a dress, and despite his sweet countenance, René d'Herblay was a man.

It was a great case of conscience, a matter that, if it had been made in a discussion of the scriptures, would have received a brilliant response based on thousands of scholarly texts, but this was not a hypothetical case; this was real and he was not in the spirit of turning the other cheek. As he always did when he felt troubled, René leaned on his priedieu and tried to pray for humility to accept the insult with Christian charity, but that plea had no answer.

René did not know how long he spent in prayer —the time passed in different ways in that enclosed, bare room, sometimes flew as if on wings, sometimes dragged as if lacked its pairs of feet. The young man did not need to look back. He knew his beloved master, one of the superiors of the seminary, had just entered the cell.

“What ails you, René?”

The question, as usual, was succinct. René knew well that was ruled more by a paternal concern than for the need of a superior to discipline a subordinate. But the silence was the only answer he could give.

“It can not be the thesis. I read the first attempt and although the idea may generate controversy, it is an issue that can shed light on many and varied issues at the same time,” the rustling of the fabric clearly indicated that his mentor had approached the bed, as he did when Rene was a child. That was a picture that the walls of the small room had witnessed many times in the past: wisely educating the youth. “A superb theme, indeed. ”

“I’m grateful for your support,” René replied and he meant it.

“Then, remove the heavy burden of your heart and tell me what troubles you. ”

René always had clear goals. It was one of the things in which he prided himself most. That's why the question asked by his superior was so difficult to answer.

The first impression is often wrong. Perhaps his mentor suspected that the sins of the flesh were the one who annoyed the young man, but he was mistaken. Lust was not a problem, even surrounded by women almost indecently dressed —as was often the case— when he left the seminary for his pious mission. True, flesh was proved weak and d’Herblay could not boast of purity anymore; but the sin was confessed and it had been duly purged of his body. His eyes went to the disciplines on the wall and shook his head to throw away the guilt and the memories, this was not the time for them.

It did not mean that the seminarian was free of blame. His sins were not limited to his body —God had endowed him well on that front, although he was modest enough to not admit it in public— more frequently, they were related to the value he gave the gifts of his ever-inquisitive mind. The stimulating company of his young lady friend’s salon where he spoke, joked and philosophized with equal ease was something he could not find under those dark arguments issued in Latin in church’s atriums. René loved being the center of attention and to amaze those courtiers with the brilliance and sagacity of his speech. Alas!, he enjoyed too much outwitting that herd of oxen dressed with magnificent and ostentatious garments, while he was wearing his simple cassock.

How could he explain it to his superior? It was pride, always pride, but he had a right to be proud of his name, his father, his place in life. His father was a friend of the Good King Henri; his line was as good —or better— than the person’s who had insulted him. However, clinging to that pride meant to abandon everything he had worked for ten years, saying goodbye to his orderly life and launching himself into a world where temptation would always be present. The decision was not easy and the more he thought about it, the harder it became.

“I'm not ready,” René finally answered, resting his forehead on his hands together. “I'm not ready to take the Holy Orders.”

“Does going out to the world make you hesitate?”

“No, this is an intimate conviction,” said René, his pale hands rested on the priedieu and his knees separated from the kneeler. “My education has been sufficient, but my spirit has not been enhanced accordingly. I’m not ready.”

For a moment both were silent, the young man looked with dismay at the old man who stared at him with compassion.

“Pray for wisdom,” advised the priest, touching him gently on the shoulder with a sigh. “Inform me at Compline what is your decision.”

René's old mentor left the cell. With resignation, René watched him leaving before returning to his priedieu, seeking a way to preserve his career and his pride. Deep within his heart he suspected that he could not keep both and had to make good use of his time to decide which one he would have to let go.

 


End file.
